


Wounded

by MayhemHeart



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt Greg Lestrade, M/M, Mycroft Holmes Has Feelings, Mystrade Monday, but he's okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:28:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26451130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayhemHeart/pseuds/MayhemHeart
Summary: Mystrade Monday Prompt #6 "I made a mistake."Mystrade Monday Prompt #7 "I can take care of myself just fine."
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Comments: 14
Kudos: 141





	Wounded

"No," the stern tone in Greg's voice makes Mycroft momentarily pause his movements, but he steels his spine and finishes hanging up his overcoat near Greg's front door. 

He turns to Greg, eyes assessing his pinched look, the press of his lips betraying his discomfort. Greg's shoulders threaten to slump forward, but he has them set in stubborn defiance. His right arm is in a sling, and the hospital wristband is still around his left wrist. He looks battle-worn, and it's all Mycroft's fault. 

"Gregory-" he says. 

"No," Greg says again, "I don't need your help."

"Gregory," Mycroft says and steps forward, a frown on his face, "you were _shot._."

"Yeah? It's my job," Greg says and goes to cross his arms but stops when he remembers the sling. The dull ache in his bicep deepens, and he grimaces. 

"You were off duty."

Greg's eyes darken, and he rolls them, "I'm still a copper off the clock."

"You almost _died_ protecting me," Mycroft says and steps closer. 

"Look, it doesn't matter. I'm not an invalid. I'll be fine by myself. I'm an adult," Greg says in irritation. He tries not to think of how his heart froze in fear when he saw the gun aimed at Mycroft. He just acted on impulse, and he would do it again, despite how angry he is. 

Mycroft is close enough to touch him, his palms facing outwards in a gesture of peace, "I do not doubt your ability to take care of yourself, but please let me help you. You are injured. It would be best if you rested. I can help with food, tea, bandages, medication, whatever you need. Please," Mycroft's voice softens, "it is not a hardship to do this for you."

"But it's a hardship to love me," Greg snaps, voice thick with bitterness, "don't pretend to be here because you care. You're not obligated to look after me because I took a bullet for you."

"I'm not pretending," Mycroft says, meeting Greg's accusing eyes and tries not to flinch, "I do care." 

Greg turns around and stalks stiffly into the living room. "No, you don't get to act as if you care. You broke up with _me_ , Mycroft. _You_ left, you-"

Greg's breath wooshes out of his chest, and his body goes still when he feels Mycroft's hands rest on his hips in a light caress. There is heat along his back as Mycroft steps close, and the taller man buries his nose into the top of Greg's head. Mycroft's lips brush against his hair as he speaks. 

" **I made a mistake.** I had convinced myself ending things was the best course of action, that staying with me would only end with you getting hurt. I know now that I acted in selfishness. I am a coward," he says in a choked voice, his shaking fingers curl into Greg's shirt. "I didn't want to see the day where you left me, so I pushed you away.

And then you got hurt anyway. Gregory, in the last 48 hours, I have never been more terrified. The thought of losing you forever frightens me. I don't want to go back to my empty life before you, but I know I cannot undo the grief I caused. I am so very sorry."

Mycroft's arms move, encircling Greg's stomach, and he presses his face into the left side of Greg's neck. "I love you," he says, and he can feel Greg's pulse jump. "If you cannot forgive me, I understand, but please let me help you," his says and swallows the despair in his throat, " _Please_."

Greg's rigid posture deflates, and there's a moment of silence before he says in a rasp, "You know breaking up with me on our anniversary was a dick move."

"I know. I panicked."

Greg turns around in Mycroft's embrace, careful of his right arm. He looks up into Mycroft's face and discovers the misery etched over his features. He looks defeated; Greg has only seen that expression once before and never to this extent. 

"You just said you love me," he whispers. 

"I do," Mycroft says, his eyes gentle," more than anything." 

Greg's mouth curves slightly, "So, are you finally admitting to being human?"

"Marginally."

"For the record," Greg says with a small grin, **"I can take care of myself just fine."**

Mycroft touches his nose with Greg's, "I believe I said the same thing to you after Sherrinford, and you refused back down." 

"Well, you can be very stubborn," Greg says matter of fact. 

"Ah," Mycroft huffs, "what do the kids say these days? 'Takes one to know one.'"

"Oh my god," Greg laughs and cups Mycroft's face with his left hand, "I forgive you." He kisses the tip of Mycroft's nose. "I love you too," he says against Mycroft's lips before giving him a slow kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why I keep ending these with Greg saying, "I love you." It's honestly not planned; I just think my 2020 needs more soft Mystrade. <3
> 
> [Tumblr ](https://thesilverapplesofthemoon.tumblr.com)


End file.
